


Harry Potter and the Missing Years

by robinasnyder



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-25
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-01-26 10:24:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1684928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robinasnyder/pseuds/robinasnyder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is supremely unhappy to discover that his whole life is a lie. His dad's best friend is a werewolf. Hell, his dad isn't even his dad. Dean's supposed to be some kind of magical chosen on, who's supposed to fight some dark lord. And worst of all, Dean can't even remember what his real parents were like. So it's just his luck that his dad is top of the wizard's most wanted list, and they've got two British kids on their ass trying to catch his dad and turn him over to the wizarding authorities. Everything was a lot easier when Dean just thought his mother had been killed by a yellow eyed demon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The history books have this to say about the night Voldemort was vanquished:

_November 2, 1983, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named attacked the house of Lily and James Potter, who had taken up residence in the United States of America in a bid to escape from the Dark Lord. When the Dark Lord attempted to kill Lily and James's son, Harry Potter, the Dark Lord was instead destroyed._

_It is believed that Harry Potter survived, because when Aurors went to clean up the site of the attack, only the bodies of Lily and James were present. Muggle witnesses said they heard the sound of a child crying after the resulting explosion from the curse. But no child was found. Still, others believe that Harry Potter was incinerated along with the Dark Lord._

_While no one is certain to the whereabouts of Harry Potter, everyone owes a debt to the child who was able to destroy He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named._

 

* * *

 

 

 

Dean Winchester rubs his hands together, trying to get the blood flow back into them. There's only so much interest he actually has in standing outside for hours, waiting for Sammy to get finished with school. Their dad should be back some time in the next two weeks, if the hunt went well. And Sam is technically old enough to be on his own for a few days. Dean has no idea why his dad doesn't let him go with him whenever John finds a werewolf hunt.

John always says that it's too dangerous, but Dean has been on plenty of dangerous hunts before.

Maybe it's his eyes. John's really weird about witches, but he has some special potion that makes Dean's eyes clear up. Dean had always been told he'd been hit with a spell or something when he was a kid that made his vision blur out sometimes. So long as John used that potion on Dean's eyes, they cleared right up and there was no problem. But John wouldn't let Dean administer it himself.

Honestly, Dean's eyes had been acting up. Sometimes his vision would go blurry. Dean had spent a bit of the food money John had left them on some granny reading glasses, just so he'd have something if John didn't get back in time.

Dean groaned and wished he had a watch. Waiting for Sam was boring. Dean would have brought a book if he'd thought it was gonna take this long. He also wished he had a watch. He had no idea how long he'd been waiting.

"Yeah, it's in walking distance. I'll save gas money this way," Dean muttered to himself, running over all the reasons why he hadn't driven the Impala over. "It's not that cold. Sam shouldn't take that long. I even knew that last one was a lie."

Dean blew on his hands and rubbed them together, trying to get the blood flow going.

"I'm telling you, Ronald, we should ask for directions," an accented female voice said.

Dean looked up from his hands over to two people about his age who were walking down the street. Dean guessed British from the accent. The girl had thick, nearly brushy brown hair, pulled back in a ponytail. She was properly dressed for the cold, as was the boy who walked next to her. He had very orange hair, and was scowling.

"Ask who?" the guy, Ronald, asked. It wasn't a bad question. This wasn't exactly a really busy town, and at this time of day when everyone else had left school or gone to some after school activity, it was basically just Dean and the two British strangers.

"How about him?" the girl asked, pointing to Dean.

"Oh yeah, great idea," Ronald grumbled.

"You know I can actually hear you, right?" Dean asked, rolling his eyes. The girl grabbed the guy's arm and dragged him over.

"Hello, we were wondering if you could help us, we're a little lost," the girl said.

"I don't know, my daddy told me to never talk to strangers," Dean said with heavy sarcasm. He looked the guy up and down. Dean was pretty sure he could take the guy, maybe take his girl too. He didn't really like a guy who took one look at him and though the was trash like this guy had.

"I'm Hermione Granger and this is Ron Weasley, what's your name?" the girl asked, deciding to just be no nonsense.

"Dean Winchester," Dean said sort of on automatic. They were using their real names here. Even still, he mentally cursed himself a bit. His dad always told him to be careful.

"Good, now we're not strangers anymore, so can you help us?" Hermione asked.

Dean chuckled. "Smart girl."

"Yes," Hermione said.

"Okay, where do you want to go then?" Dean asked. He couldn't help himself, he liked her. He grinned.

"Hermione wants to see the Bell Witch Cave," Ron said.

"That tourist trap? I hope you didn't fly all the way over here just for that," Dean said.

"I'm doing a paper on folk lore of the supernatural in the Americas," Hermione said.

"That's like college level or higher, no way you're that high. You can't be older than 18," Dean said.

"It's a special program," Ron said, sounding very proud. "Of course our Hermione would get accepted, but still."

"And did you get into this special program too?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, no, but I couldn't let Hermione go by herself. You know how people are," Ron said.

Dean felt his respect for Ron go up. An academic trip couldn't be that interesting, but Ron clearly wasn't going to let Hermione go where she might go and get bugged by creeps. And Hermione seemed like the type of girl who'd run head first into danger if it meant she could get the information she needed.

"So, do you know where the Bell Witch Cave is?" Hermione asked, sounding just a touch exasperated.

"Dean!" It was Sam. Dean turned and saw his brother walking over.

"Hey, Sammy, how'd your tutoring go?" Dean asked.

"Pretty good. My teacher is impressed with my Latin pronunciation," Sam said. Dean grinned at him. Of course his Latin pronunciation was great. He and Dean had been saying the exorcism incantation all of their lives there about. Dean hadn't really gotten great grades when he took Latin, but the teachers always told him he did pronunciation great.

"Who's this?" Sammy asked, looking at Hermione and Ron.

"Sammy, this is Ron and Hermione. They're heading for the Bell Witch Cave," Dean said.

Sam wrinkled his nose. "That tourist trap?" he asked.

"See?" Dean asked.

"All we need are directions," Hermione said coolly.

"Look," Dean said. "If you can wait ten minutes, I can drive you two over. But I left the car at the place we're staying. If you'll walk with us, I can give you a ride."

"You sure, Dean?" Sam asked. It went against everything they'd ever been taught. Don't pick up strangers. Don't put strangers in the Impala. Don't take strangers back to where you're staying.

"I'm sure," Dean said. He couldn't exactly explain it, but something in Dean soothed around Ron and Hermione in a way it only ever soothed around Sam or Dad. He didn't know how to explain it, because it wasn't a family feeling. But it was a feeling of like 'they're like me'. And he knew it was dangerous to trust feelings like that. It could be a trap. But he wanted to trust that feeling.

"Okay," Hermione agreed. Ron sighed a bit, but he didn't argue.

"This way then," Dean said, leading them down the street.

They went mostly in silence. It wasn't exactly comfortable, but it also wasn't exactly awkward. Dean asked Sam a few questions about his Latin class, and Sam sorta answered, though not exactly because there were people with them. It didn't even occur to Dean that it might be awkward where the ywere staying until they arrived at the motel.

"Oh, so you're staying here too," Ron said.

"You're staying here?" Sam asked.

"You're staying here?" Hermione asked.

"Our dad's a traveling salesman," Dean said. It was the standard lie. "We tend to move around a lot."

"Oh, what's that like?" Ron asked, and actually sounded pretty interested.

"Not as interesting as you'd think," Dean said, trying to shut it down. He dropped the key in Sam's hand. "Here, Sammy. I'll be back in a half hour."

"Okay," Sam said, but he didn't go to the motel room. Instead he walked with Dean and Ron and Hermione to the Impala.

Dean unlocked the car and held open the back seat door for Hermione. He was a little relieved that she got in and that Ron got in on the other side. He didn't want any awkward thing where he had to sit with half of the couple.

He drove out of the parking lot and headed toward the road.

"So," Hermione started. "Travelling salesman?"

"Yeah," Dean said.

"What's that like?" Hermione asked.

"Well, there's a lot of traveling involved. My dad's a few cities over right now. I had to stay behind and make sure Sammy doesn't throw any wild parties," Dean said.

"Your car is awesome," Ron said with barely withheld interest.

"Yep, been working on it my whole life," Dean said proudly, "It's my dad's, I got it from him a few years ago."

"Cool," Ron said doing what he probably thought was his best impression of an American accent. Dean glanced at Ron in the rearview mirror and laughed when he saw the look on Ron's face. He was joking on purpose.

To be perfectly honest, he'd much rather talk about his car rather that growing up on the road. While Hermione still seemed interested in traveling salesmanship, Ron carefully directed the topic of conversation away from that, more toward the car, which Dean happily chatted about. It occurred to Dean after he'd already dropped the young couple off an was headed home that maybe Ron had grown up poor and knew that Dean wouldn't want to talk about it.

 

* * *

 

 

Dean liked to go to Rick's bar in the evening. There were always enough people around that Rick would joke about how "everyone goes to Rick's" and Dean would roll his eyes for the millionth time. Rick knew he wasn't 21, so when Dean asked for beer (and Dean always asked) he'd serve Dean a cream soda and Dean would drink it because cream soda was good, damn it!

Everyone knew Dean at that point. If he wanted to hustle pool he'd have to go to another town. He's already won money off every guy in the bar. Adams, Tennessee wasn't a bad place. Even though he'd swindled all of them, the guy just kind of accepted Dean. He knew they had an idea of where he was living. So every evening or so a couple of guys would throw down ten dollars apiece and ask for pool lessons. He was better than most of the guys who came to Rick's, and they had improved playing against him, part because he did adjust their stances and grip and stuff. He didn't want it to be charity. And if he came home with thirty or fifty buck now and then, well it just meant Dean could buy fresh broccoli instead of the flash frozen stuff.

"Uh-oh, greenies," Rick said. Dean turned around from his spot at the bar and saw Ron and Hermione walk in. Dean raised his hand and waved. Ron saw first and tugged Hermione over toward him.

"They're visiting from England," Dean said.

"You know 'em?"

"Eh, I helped them find the tourist trap," Dean asked.

"Ah," Rick said. "Welcome to Rick's."

"They'll have what I'm having," Dean said.

"What are you having?" Hermione asked.

"Nothing illegal," Dean said. "You can drink at what? 16 where you come from?"

"Something like that," Ron said, settling onto a bar stool.

"How was the Bell Witch?" Dean asked.

"It was very interesting," Hermione said, sounding excited. "I got a lot of good information."

"boring," Ron mouthed around Hermione. Dean grinned.

"Well, I'm glad you got the information you wanted," Dean said.

Rick set two cream sodas down in front of Ron and Hermione. "So, how long are you two staying?"

"Only two more days if we want to stay on schedule," Hermione said. She took her class and took a sip. She made a short appreciative "Mmm" sound.

"Mmm, this is good, a little like butter beer," Ron said.

"Like what exactly?" Dean asked.

"A drink we have at home," Hermione said.

"Ah, yeah, okay," Dean said and sipped his drink.

"So, where's your brother?" Hermione asked.

"No here. He's back in the door studying," Dean explained.

"Studying," Ron groaned. "So glad to be away from that."

"You and me both. But no, he's really brilliant. He reads all the time, it's insane," Dean said, but he had a big, proud grin on his face.

"Sounds like Hermione," Ron said, smiling in a way that was also proud and warm. "Made for great things."

"I knew I liked her for a reason," Dean with an even bigger grin. Hermione turned pink. Both Dean and Ron laughed.

"Dean, there you are!" A very family voice said.

Dean turned around. "Dad, you're back!"

"Yeah, just saw Sam. He said you'd be here," John said, glancing at Ron and Hermione.

"Yeah. I didn't think you'd be back until tomorrow," Dean said.

"Well, the job got finished a little faster than expected," John said.

"Okay, are we going?" Dean asked. Sam was not going to be happy about that at all. He'd just started to fit in and catch up in classes.

"No, I'll tell you when Sam's around," John said.

"Yeah, okay," Dean said, and threw the rest of his soda down his throat and put the glass down. "Hey, you two have fun the next two days," Dean said to Ron and Hermione. He threw down enough money to pay for their drinks too.

"Oh, we might stick around a little longer," Hermione said. "I might need more research than I thought about the Bell Witch."

"But you just said you were only staying two more days," Dean said.

"If we want to stick to the schedule we'd set," Hermione said, like a gentle chastisement. Dean glanced at Ron who looked as confused as Dean felt. "Ron has been wanting to slow down a bit."

"That's true," Ron said, though he said it a tiny bit grudgingly.

John cleared his throat. "Anyway, good night!" Dean said and went after his dad.

He'd driven over. John had apparently walked because he got into the passenger's seat. It was still weird driving his dad places. Dean didn't think he'd ever get over it. Dean wondered if it felt weird for John too, but he never asked.

He pulled into the motel parking lot pretty quickly. Rick's was close enough that Dean had walked it many a night. He parked and followed his dad into the motel room.

"Wow, that was fast," Sam said, hoping up from the bed.

"Eh, Rick's is pretty close," Dean said, pulling off his jacket and tossing it over a chair. "So, are we leaving in the morning?"

"No, we'll be here at least another week," John said. He dropped into a chair. He'd probably been driving all night. He just seemed exhausted.

"Really?" Sam said, sounding excited.

"What happened with the case?" Dean asked. "I thought you had a werewolf hunt."

"I do," John said.

"Did the werewolf move?" Dean asked, a little exasperated.

"I promise to explain tomorrow. I have a friend coming to stay with us for the next two weeks. You've already made a place for yourself in this town. This will be good enough, I think," John said.

"Dad, what's going on?" Dean asked.

"I promise I'll explain everything tomorrow when my friend gets here. But until then, I need you to just trust me," John said.

"Fine," Dean said. He didn't like being treated like a kid, but he knew he'd only deserve to be treated like a kid if he acted like he was one. He wanted to know, but it was only a few hours, right? 24 at the most, probably. He could wait that long.

 

* * *

 

 

"I don't understand," Ron said when they apparated back to their room. "You said you wanted to go the day after tomorrow so we could hit all the locations before you had to get back for the internship at the ministry."

"This is more important," Hermione said, digging through the little bag she'd spelled so it could carry part of her library of books with her so she'd have them on hand if she wanted them while they were traveling. It also had a tent, and basically all their luggage in it. She'd also spelled it to be light so it wouldn't be impossible to carry around.

"How? What?" Ron asked.

"Just hold on," Hermione demanded as she dug. She dragged out book after book, tossing them aside. Scabbers woke up and squeaked in protest before, books being tossed onto the bed where he was asleep.

"Sorry buddy," Ron said, picking up Scabbers. To put him in one of the beside draws but didn't close it all the way, Scabbers would probably be able to get out, and he wasn't going to be hit by a book. Ron couldn't be certain about that for himself, especially when he saw Hermione thrust her whole arm into the bag, digging around for whatever book she needed.

"Ah ha!" She declared when she pulled out a book and looked at the cover. "Come here Ronald," she said, offering him her hand.

"Are you gonna hit me with it?" Ron asked. It was a pretty thick looking book. In fact, it was one of the new ones that Hermione had bought at the Salem Witches Institute Book Store if Ron remembered right.

Hermione gave him a look and shook her arm a little. "Just come here!" she ordered. Ron walked over and took her hand. The next thing he knew she'd apparated them out to a field not too far away from the Bell Witch Caves.

"Bloody Hell? Do not tell me we need to go back into that cave again," Ron groaned.

"No," Hermione said and pulled out her wand. The book moved out of her hand and opened the correct page and then the tip of her wand lit up.

"Show off," Ron muttered. Of course Hermione had mastered spells without speaking.

"Ron, look. I picked up his book for a bit of light reading. It's _Images of the Rise and Fall of The Dark Lord_."

"Yeah, you know, I thought it didn't have as many words as you normally like in books," Ron said. He expected a playful punch but instead Hermione pointed to a picture in the book. It was from the wedding album of Lily and James Potter. The Potters stood their laughing and happy, and next to them stood a man who-

"Wait!" Ron said, pulling the book closer. "That's that guy we just saw in the bar, the one Dean called "Dad". Who is that? Why is he at the Potter's wedding?"

"That," Hermione said. "Is Sirius Black."

"Oh, Merlin's Beard!" Ron cursed, going a bit pale. Everyone knew about the destruction Black had caused. His name was synonymous with You-Know-Who. And his disappearance after the murder of Peter Pettigrew was almost as well publicized as the destruction of You-Know-Who.

"Exactly," Hermione said.

"What should be do? Call the Aurors?" It wasn't like they exactly knew how to get American Aurors on the scene.

"No," Hermione said. "Right now they have no idea we know who he is. Black said they were staying around, right? So we can stay too and keep an eye on them, find out where they're going and tell the Auror's where they're headed."

"That... sounds like a good plan," Ron said. "Can you believe it? Guy goes and has a family after he murders a bunch of people?"

"Yeah… but Dean's a little… old. Maybe Black already had the family?" Hermione suggested. "You-Know-Who was big on pure blood lines. Maybe it was a thing, try and have pureblood kids to keep up the lines?"

"Maybe, although you think we'd have heard something about it before, you know a pure blood woman's child disappearing?" Ron asked.

"I don't know," Hermione said. "But maybe we'll figure it out if we keep an eye on them?"

"Yeah, sounds good, let's head back," Ron said. He took Hermione's hand and apparated them back. He laughed when she landed a bit jarred. It earned him a bit with the book, but it was worth it.


	2. Chapter 2

Sam was nervous about their dad bringing a stranger to stay with them. It was kind of a mess enough that he and Dean had to share a bed because their dad had come back. What were they going to do when they had a fourth person staying in their room? 

Still, he was happy that they’d be there for another two weeks. This would be the longest he’d been at one school in a while. 

Dean drove him to school in the morning and classes went about normal. He’d actually be caught up on classes before they left this time. He’d been doing really well in Latin too. His next high school would probably make him switch to Spanish or something, which he didn’t really enjoy. 

He sighed at that thought. It only came to him after the Latin club. The school had been great for clubs. He’d joined Mock Trial too, just cause he could. It was too late in the year to have a part, but he could help everyone with their speeches and help by checking the laws the ‘lawyers’ would be losing. He kind of liked it. 

“Two more weeks,” Sam said when he got into Dean’s car. 

“Yep, two more weeks,” Dean said. 

“Decided to not freeze your butt off today?” Sam asked with a smirk. 

“Yeah,” Dean said. “And Dad’s friend showed up.” 

“Really?” Sam asked, sitting up. “What’s he like?” 

“Skinny, dirt poor, academic,” Dean said, rolling his eyes. Sam frowned a bit. 

“That doesn’t sound like a friend dad would have,” Sam said, knowing they were both thinking it. Dean just shrugged and kept on driving. 

It took maybe three minutes to drive between the school and the motel. Sam hoped out and shifted his bag onto his shoulder, walking to the motel room door and opening it. Sam was surprised that their dad’s friend was even tweedier than Dean described. 

He was dressed in a suit that seemed like it had been worn far too much and for far too long. There were little scars on his face, and he looked very much like he could use a few good meals and his hair had grayed probably way early. 

“Sam, this is Remus Lupin,” John said from where he was seated at the table, cleaning his gun. 

“Nice to meet you,” Sam said. Dean shut the door and grabbed Sam’s shoulders, physically moving him so Dean could get around him. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sam,” the man, Remus said with a small smile. He spoke with a quiet British accent. 

“Dean, a pizza man is coming in about a minute,” John said. It was his way or telling Dean to get his wallet and pay the man. But also to not freak out when someone knocked on the door. Dean’s eyes lit up. 

“Pizza?” Sam asked. It wasn’t like they had it a lot, not delivery anyway. 

There was a knock at the door and Dean hopped up and pay the man, who brought five boxes. 

“Dad, there’s no way we can eat five pizzas in one sitting,” Sam said after Dean had paid the man. 

“Well, then they’ll be some for breakfast,” Dean said with a grin, dropping the boxes on the counter of their little kitchenette. 

“See,” John said. “Moony’s never had pizza before.” And suddenly, much to Sam’s shock, John grinned. It wasn’t like his normal smiles, which weren’t exactly a common place thing to begin with. This grin was easy, even a little dickish. It was like one of Dean’s signature grins. 

“Your father believed I should try a number of options,” Remus said. 

“What kind of nickname is “Moony”?” Dean asked around a bite of pizza. 

“Oh, I guess you father hasn’t told you yet,” Remus started, glancing at John who shrugged. 

“It seemed easier to tell them everything once you got here,” John said like an explanation. 

“Alright,” Remus said and took a deep breath. He seemed nervous, really nervous which Sam didn’t think made too much sense. At least until he spoke. “I’m a werewolf.” 

“You’re a what?” Dean asked. He’d been about to take another bit, but he stopped wit hthe pizza right up to his lips. 

“A werewolf, Dean,” John said. “Remus was bit by a werewolf when he was a kid.” 

“What the hell, dad, why did you bring a werewolf here, why do you know a werewolf?” Dean demanded.

“That’s why we’re staying the extra time,” Sam said, suddenly getting it. 

“What?” Dean stopped, turning at looking at Sam. 

“The full moon is next week,” Sam said. 

“That’s right,” John said. “This town is situated in a place where it will be easy for me to sneak Moony off in the evenings. I won’t let him bite anyone, Dean. I never have.” 

“Why, how?” Dean demanded. 

“Why do you think I never let you go hunting werewolves with me?” John asked. “Werewolves are a complicated business.” 

“Meaning you’d just pack them off somewhere and didn’t actually stop them from hurting anyone,” Dean said. He looked betrayed. Hell, Sam felt betrayed. John always talked about how all monsters had to be put down. 

“It wasn’t like that, Dean,” John said. 

“I think we started this off the wrong way,” Remus said. “Dean, Sam, you must understand something, there are differences when something like… my disease I guess we’ll call it for lack of a better word, infects someone. Muggles… um, people without magic tend to have more violent shifts. They hunt other hunters, people. It’s instinct to protect themselves. Even if they’re isolated there’s no way to stop them from tearing down the walls and going after other people. They’re far more powerful than their magical counterparts.” 

“So if someone makes themselves a witch an then gets bit?” Sam asked. 

“It’s not like that,” John said. “The witches we hunt are men and women who’ve sold their souls to get magic. They weren’t born with it. There are some people who were born with it. And they’re perfectly normal except they decided to live back in the dark ages.” 

“And those who had a magical gift who are bit retain… some level of control. Or better to say that while they will attack people, if locked up they will be more likely to go after animals. If a human should get in their way… well… that’s why I try to be certain I’m someplace where people aren’t one week a month.” 

“When I go after werewolves I try to see if they can be moved someplace. There are some werewolf compounds, and wizard werewolves can corral and control muggle werewolves,” John said. “I never took you because, in order to survive everything else, I only taught you to shoot first. You weren’t ready to have to think about it.” 

“So what, I am now?” Dean asked. “And Sam is too?” 

“We are having this talk now because you are older,” John said. He breathed in a heavy sigh. He looked older and much more burdened. “It’s going to be a long talk, and not just about werewolves. We should eat first.” 

Sam thought their dad was a bit optimistic about them eating. But everyone did get a plate and a few slices. John got Remus a plate with a slice of each type on it. Sam was glad that john had ordered veggie pizza for once too. 

Dean did in fact eat something, but he attacked it like it had personally offended him. Not that it was shocking. What was shocking was that every time Remus made a happy gasp of surprise when he took a bite of pizza that John would laugh, or poke Remus in the side, which would earn John a glare, and then John would smile way too innocently. 

Sam 100% believed that Remus was a friend to John. They acted a lot like Dean and Sam did when Dean was trying to annoy the crap out of Sam. Except that while their dad did laugh sometimes, and could really get in on a joke occasionally, he normally wasn’t very open about it.

It was honestly surreal. 

In the end they put the left over pizza in two boxes and stuffed them in the fridge to be dealt with in the morning, probably, as Dean had suggested, for breakfast. After that they all found a seat, John and Sam each on one of the beds. Dean picked a seat at the table after Remus had moved there. 

“So, let’s have the talk, then,” Dean said. 

“Okay,” John said, taking a deep breath. “So I mentioned that there were people with magic who were born with it, Witches and Wizards, different from the type you two are used to dealing with. Well, you two and I and Remus were all born into that world.” 

“Bullshit,” Dean said. 

“It’s true,” John said. “Dean, with training, you could perform magic, even without training both you and Sam have actually preformed magic, though unknowingly and you’ve had no control over it.” 

“Bullshit,” Dean said again. 

“That sounds dangerous,” Sam said. 

“It can be,” John said. “But I was very careful to be certain neither of you did anything that would be noticed. And honestly, muggles or just anyone not acquainted with the supernatural will do just about anything to pretend it doesn’t exist, as you two well know.” 

And they did know. Sam glanced at Dean was seemed to nod despite himself. Sam nodded as well, just because it seemed the right thing to do. 

“So, you’re telling me that you’re a wizard?” Dean asked. 

“Would you liked to see a bit of magic?” John asked. 

“Yes,” Sam said, actually really curious. 

Just liked that, their dad shifted into a dog. Sam jumped. Dean actually jumped out of his chair. John trotted over to Remus, who pet his head with an affectionate familiarity. 

“Padfoot, that is to say, your… father, he’s what we call an animagus,” Remus said, focusing on the thick black fur of the dog their dad had turned into. “He and our two other friends trained to be animagus for my sake. S-John, John became a dog, and out friend James became a stag. That way when I changed into a werewolf they could corral me. And when I was with them I regained some of my mind, of my self even when I was changed. Our last friend… Peter, he changed into a rat. The school we trained at allowed me to go to school with the other kids by sectioning me off during the time of the month I changed. In order to get into the passage way, Peter changed into a rat and pressed a button only he could reach.” 

Sam felt awed. That sounded a lot like the kind of thing their dad would do too. 

“Is it hard?” Sam asked. 

Their father changed back. He stood and went to pull his clothes back on. “It was terribly difficult. Technically we were supposed to register with the ministry of magic.” 

“There’s a ministry of magic?” Dean asked. “There are magic schools?” 

“Yes,” Remus said. “There are… and had the… event not happened, you both would have attended Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardy.” 

“That sounds made up,” Sam said. 

“I promise you it’s not,” John said. 

“What’s the event…. Is it…” Dean swallowed. “Was it mom?” 

John sighed very heavily and sat back down on the bed. “I’m so sorry Dean… Before you or Sam were born, a dark wizard grew to power. He called himself Lord Voldemort.” 

“That’s a dumbass name,” Dean said. 

Remus chuckled, so did John. “It might seem that way to you, Dean. But I assure you, where we come from, most people refer to him as He Who Must Not Be Named, or You Know Who.” 

“That’s retarded,” Dean said. “What, they think saying the guy’s name will bring him around?” 

“Something like that… but really it’s just terrible fear. Voldemort practiced dark, forbidden magic.” 

“There are three unforgivable curses,” John said. 

“Crutiatus,” Remus said. 

“Terrible, horrible pain,” John said. “Two aurors, that’s wizard police, Frank and Alice Longbottom were tortured to the point of insanity using the curtiatus curse after Voldemort fell. This was very common even before he fell.” 

“He fell?” Sam asked. 

“I promise We’ll get to that,” John said. “Bare with us.” 

“The Imperius curse made it so a person would be under the complete control of the wizard casting the curse. Deatheaters, Voldemort’s followers, would use the Imperius curse on people, make them steal, or kill or torture. The people they controlled had really no way to fight them.” 

“Like possession?” Dean asked, a little wide eyed

“Something like that,” John said with a shrug. “Except with possession a demon simply uses the body of the vessel. It’s their own personality and their own will controlling the body. The possessed just take a back seat. With the Imperius curse, the spell takes away any ability for the cursed to say no. They want to do whatever they’re told. So they commit those acts themselves. They do everything they’re told. In a way, it’s worse than possession. With possession, at least the victim knows they didn’t really do it. With the Imperius curse, they really did do it. The curser simply takes away their ability or want to say no.” 

“Shit,” Dean said quietly. 

“The last curse… you have to understand that wizarding culture is very much kept back in the dark ages. And that there’s really only one killing curse,” John said. 

“Avada Kadavra,” Remus said. 

“No trace, no wounds, not heart attack, nothing. They’re just dead,” John said. 

“So people were afraid of him because he could kill?” Sam asked. 

“No, Sam, because he would kill. He did it with impunity. He didn’t care, he’d just do it,” John said, gripping his hands into fists. “And him and his followers believed that only pure bloods, wizards who came from a long line of wizards with no muggles marrying into the family, should be counted as wizards.” 

“So he was magical Hitler,” Dean said. 

“There’s really no other good analogy,” John said. “Except that Voldemort got his hands dirty often and he never had the scope of influence that Hitler did.” 

“Great, brilliant,” Dean muttered. 

“But you said he fell,” Sam said. 

“He did,” Remus said quietly. He and John got really silent and really still for a moment. 

“Dad?” Dean asked and John actually winced. 

“This is where it gets complicated,” John said. “Voldemort wasn’t vanquished by some brave hero or a powerful wizard or a man with a gun. He went to kill a child, but something happened, something went wrong for him and he was made powerless.” 

“A kid?” Dean asked. “A kid did that?” 

“Dean, you did that,” John said. 

“I… wait, what?” Dean asked. 

“Dean?” Sam asked. “You said it was the yellow eyed demon!” 

“The yellow eyed demon as done a lot of things. It was an easy thing to tack onto what happen… something that kept us far, far away from the wizarding world. We weren’t hunting down an evil monster. We were running away from someone, who beyond all reason was still alive even after he was defeated in such a way that he was powerless.” 

“So… after he killed mom?” Dean started. 

“Dean… He didn’t just kill your mother, he killed your father too,” John said. 

“What? But you’re here!” Dean protested. 

“Dean… Sam… my name isn’t John Winchester, and your names aren’t Dean and Sam Winchester. My name is Sirius Black, and your names are Harry and Samuel Potter… the sons of my best friend James.” 

They sat in silence for a moment. Dean looked completely frozen. Sam looked between his brother and Joh-Sirius and Remus. Finally something occurred to Sam. 

“The stag.” 

“We called him Prongs,” Remus said. 

“Your parents fought against Voldemort, they worked tirelessly… but then they found out that he was after them. We decided that we’d hide them away. But Voldemort was everywhere in England. So your parents moved to Kansas, hid their accents, their names, everything, and they got a secret keeper,” Sirius explained. 

“With a secret keeper, as long as Voldemort didn’t know who that person was and what they knew, then he could have stood over your family and he’d never have even seen you,” Sirius said. 

“So… what happened?” Dean said. 

“I’m afraid this is my fault. I was going to be the secret keeper, but I was so much the obvious choice… I convinced James that Peter was a better choice.” 

“He betrayed them!” Sam said in a sudden rush. He felt a painful hot anger shoot through him. He didn’t even know these people, James Potter and his wife, his and Dean’s real parents. But that man, that rat who was their friend betrayed them. 

“Exactly,” Remus said. 

“The house was in ruins when I arrived… I’d gone with your parents, also into hiding. I found you there, Harry, cut up and crying and you, Sammy, in his arms. I picked you both up and ran. I couldn’t risk that Voldemort’s followers would come looking for revenge.”

“But no… you’re are dad! I remember you! I remember mom!” Dean said, nearly shouted. 

“I changed your memories,” John said. 

“You changed…” Dean stopped and rubbed a hand over his face. “You changed my memories?” 

“You were just three, Dean. I changed your name, I changed your hair. I hid the scar that you’d have showing through if I didn’t keep the glamour spells on you all the time. The only thing I left were your eyes… Lily’s eyes. James always loved them so much… I just couldn’t do it.” 

“You changed me… you changed, who I was, everything about me, my name, my memories, my looks! You told me I was four when the attack happened.” 

“Your real birthday is July 31st 1980,” Sirius said quietly. As he talked his shoulders had slumped. He seemed just so much older than Sam had ever seen him look. 

“Not January 24th 1979,” Dean said. 

“You would have been too recognizable, Dean!” John- Sirius said loudly. 

“And what about Sam, is he all the same?” 

“Sam was a baby. He had no memories to change. His hair is more brown than black. Lily and James’s parents were both dead. Outside of unrelated muggles, no one else knew Sam existed. I didn’t have to change his name,” John said. 

“So why now?” Dean asked. 

“Wizarding age of majority is 17,” Remus said. Dean jumped. He’d probably forgotten the man way there. That told Sam everything he needed to know about how upset Dean was. Remus Lupin could be considered a threat and Dean forgot he was there. Sam, for his part, just felt numb all the way through. 

“So?” Sam asked before Dean could. 

“Before you reach 17, there’s a trace on you. If you perform any significant magic outside of a school, or an area where a lot of magic happens, like a wizarding house, then the ministry is alerted,” Remus said. 

“And dad had to keep us under the radar. But it’s January. Why now?” Dean demanded. 

“Because I’m a coward, Dean. I just got so, so used to seeing you as my own son, you and Sam. I knew when I told you that everything would change, and I didn’t want it to.” 

Everyone was silent again for a long moment. Sam felt like the silence made it hard to breathe. Dean was glaring full force at their dad… well, he wasn’t their father, was he? But he had raised them and Dean had never ever looked at the man with anything but respect. He very rarely even contradicted him. 

“You’re right,” Dean said. “You are a coward.” 

John winced. 

“So, now what?” Dean demanded. 

“You’re old enough that we can start teaching you magic, if you wish,” Remus said. “And Sam can be caught magic that doesn’t involve spells, at least in part.” 

“What magic is that?” Sam asked. 

“History and potions,” John said, wrinkling his nose. “The boring subjects.” 

“They have very practical applications. Recently, a potion has been created that allows me to be fully in control of myself when I change. So long as I take the potion I have my mind about me,” Remus said. “And that’s huge.” 

“It… sounds like it,” Sam admitted.

“Screw this,” Dean said, grabbing his jacket and keys. “I’m going out.” 

“Dean,” Sirius started. 

“What?” Dean snapped. 

“Don’t wreck the car,” Sirius said. 

“Screw you,” Dean snapped and stormed out. A minute later, Sam heard the engine of the Impala roar to life, and a few seconds later he heard it pull away and drive off.

“Well…” Sirius said slowly. “That went a lot better than I thought it would.”


	3. Chapter 3

Dean came home after he’d driven around for hours. He actually drove out to the Bell Witch Cave and walked around. It was late enough at that point that no one was around. It was quiet for a few minutes and he could think. 

Not that he exactly wanted to think. He wished it was a few days ago, before he dad – Sirius Black—came back. He wished he didn’t know that his dad had been saving monsters instead of just getting rid of them. He wished he didn’t know that all of them were the kind of freaks Dean had spent most of his life hunting down. He wished he didn’t know that some total whack job wizard had killed his and Sam’s real parents. 

He wished he didn’t know his real name was Harry. Who the hell named their kid Harry anyway? Dean was so much cooler. 

Dean sighed and got out of his car so he could walk around. He didn’t do much walking. He just walked around the front of the Impala and sat down. He kicked some of the rocks under his feet and watched them skip a little ways away. 

“Shit,” Dean said quietly. How has he supposed to deal with this? 

His dad wasn’t really his dad. His whole life was literally a lie. As much of a freak as Dean had always been, he was even more of a freak now. 

Magic. He had magic? 

It was worse because Dean also kind of felt like his dad, Sirius Black, that the guy was pretty cool. He followed his best friend in the world out to a whole other country so he could be there for them if something happened. When something did happen, he picked up his friends’ kids and raised them as best he could. 

Because his dad had said it, he’d gotten used to having Dean and Sam being his sons. He was their dad. He’d raised them. He taught them how to shoot and how to fight and how to live. He’d protected them from vampires and demons and evil dark wizards. He was their dad. 

That thought steadied him. His dad used to say that family didn’t end with blood, didn’t he? Did he just mean with him and Sam? Or was he thinking of other family, friends he’d lost, and a father and a mother his sons had lost? 

Dean rubbed his hands together. He wondered what it would be like to do magic for real. There was a magic school where kids went and learned to do magic. They didn’t just do math and Latin and shit like that. They learned how to turn people into frogs. 

He bet Sammy would be great at that. 

Well, when Sammy got old enough, but they had said that there was some stuff that Sammy could learn and it not be a problem for him, right? Potions, they said? Was it like that stuff that dad made for Dean’s eyes? 

Was that another thing they’d lied about? Why did he have to have a potion if his eyes weren’t bad, especially since his dad said that they’d never changed his eye color?

Dean sighed heavily. There were so many questions. He wasn’t going to get answers sitting out in the middle of nowhere that was for sure. And he did feel a little more centered, like maybe he could deal with it a little bit. He at least didn’t think he’d spit in anyone’s face. Not that he’d do that to his dad, but maybe that damn werewolf. 

Dean sighed again and got up. He needed to go back. 

He got back in the car and turned around, heading back to the main road and then back to the motel. His mind was still going in seven different directions, but he at least didn’t feel like he might accidentally run the car off the road from distraction. 

He pulled into the motel parking lot and sighed. He sat out there for a minute, trying to get himself together. It had seemed like a so much better idea to turn around and come back when he was still driving. Now that he was stopped and he actually had to go in and face reality he wasn’t so sure. 

He practically jumped out of his skin when there was a tap on his window. He grabbed his chest and looked over, seeing it was just Ron. Dean rolled down his window. 

“Way to give me a heart attack, man,” Dean said, still clutching his chest. 

“Sorry,” Ron said, making some vague hand gesture. “You okay?” 

“Ah… yeah,” Dean said. He really, really wished that he had someone to talk to about all this. “Hey, where’s Hermione?” 

“Studying. She sent me to go get us food.” 

“You want a ride?” Dean asked. He was more than happy to put all of this off for a few more minutes. 

“Yes,” Ron said. He walked around the other side. Dean lay half across the seat so he could unlock the door. When he sat up he started to roll up his window while Ron got in. 

“Buckle up,” Dean said. Ron did as he was told as Dean started to pull out of the parking lot. “So, were you just gonna walk?” 

“Yeah, I don’t have a driver’s license,” Ron said. 

“Really?” Dean asked. 

“Hermione does,” Ron added quickly. 

“Dude, why do you not?” Dean asked, completely surprised. 

“When I was… 15,” Ron started, talking a little slow. “I uh… missed the train to school, so I grabbed my dad’s car and drove there. And I sorta drove it into a tree.” 

“Ah, yeah, that would do it,” Dean said and then laughed. “God! If I’d done that with Baby, then dad would have killed me.” His laughter died really quickly. 

“You sure you’re okay?” Ron asked. 

“Yeah… I am, I mean, not really.” Dean was a little surprised at himself when he heard himself say that, but he didn’t try to take it back. This was a big, big deal. He’d probably never see Ron again after a while. As long as he didn’t talk about magic, he could probably still talk about it. 

“What’s wrong?” Ron asked. 

“Well… see, I’ve been traveling with my dad and brother all my life, since my mom died… and he just brought this friend over tonight and they told us… see, I was really young, so I don’t really remember much. And I was told that my mom had died in a fire. But my dad he said… he said that more mom didn’t die in a fire and that he’s not really my dad. He said that he was my godfather, and my really parents got killed, and he took us and raised us. And that’s just a whole lot. Like my whole life has been a lie. But he still raised us and loved us. And he took his best friend’s kids and raised them as his own and did everything he could to protect us, and he still feels like my dad, but it’s strange knowing that he’s not. And it’s just a lot.” 

“That is a lot,” Ron said. And then he didn’t say anything else. There was silence and it was kind of awkward, but the whole situation was awkward. What did a normal person say to any of it? 

Dean shifted in his seat a bit and sighed, just to fill the silence with some noise with something besides the normal noises of the car. 

“So, you’re not taking it well,” Ron said after a while. 

“Well, I guess as well as it can be expected. I also kinda think that the friend my dad suddenly showed up with might be banging my dad.” Now, Dean had only said that to try and help Ron understand the upsetting nature of the whole situation, but the second he said it, Dean was pretty sure that his dad and the werewolf were together, or had been, as a couple. His dad just had never been very chummy with anyone, but he and Lupin touched, easily and smiled at each other and shared looks. 

“Oh,” Ron said, sounding like he had no idea what to say. “Two of my house mates Dean and Seamus were together like that.” 

“You’re okay with it?” Dean asked. 

“I don’t see why I wouldn’t be,” Ron said with a shrug. “They’re happy about it, so why not?” 

“Yeah,” Dean said. “It’s like… I don’t know, if it wasn’t Dad, what the hell would I care? But it just fits in with everything else. This day has been so fucking weird.” 

“Sorry, man,” Ron said, in a way that was truly unhelpful, but Dean smiled a little anyway. 

“So, what are you getting?” 

“Ah, I have no idea. I was just going to walk until I found a place,” Ron said. 

“I know a place. They got the best pie I’ve had in a while,” Dean said. 

“I bow your expertise, mate,” Ron said and Dean laughed a little.

 

* * *

Sam was a nervous wreck the second time he heard Dean’s car pull up in front of the motel room. Of all the things the Impala was, subtle was not one of them. Dean had pulled up and hour ago and all of them had waited for Dean to come in, only to hear Dean drive off again. At that point Dad, Sirius, had disappeared with crack and Lupin had let out a heavy sigh. 

He’d produced a book from his bag, and started talk to Sam about kappas. It at least eased Sam’s nerves enough that he wasn’t pacing. He did start pacing after Dad came back with alcohol. Sam didn’t like watching Dad drink. He didn’t like watching Dean drink either. 

Luckily Lupin had made about half the bottles Dad showed up with disappear, and talked to his friend, distracting him enough that Dad only got through a beer and a half. 

Still, Sam was still completely nervous when Dean came back. He worried that Dean would be completely drunk too, but while he did smell like cigarettes, he didn’t look inebriated. He also had a pie tin with him. 

“So, Ron said a bringing home a pie might make things less awkward,” Dean said as he shut the door with his foot. 

“Are you okay?” Sam asked, walking up to Dean. He still only smelled like cigarettes.

“Yeah, dropped by the diner and helped Ron get food,” Dean said, taking the pie and setting it down on the table. “And yeah… I’ll learn from you. The magic stuff.” 

“Really?” Lupin asked. 

“Yeah… but I gotta know what Sam and I can both learn,” Dean added. 

“Any subject that doesn’t use a wand,” Lupin said. “So, History of Magic, Divination, Astrology, Potions, Care of Magical Creatures.” 

“But that’s only if we have Magical Creatures to practice with,” John-Sirius, whatever his name was said. 

“True,” Lupin said. “And Arithmancy, which is the magic of numbers.” 

“That sounds boring,” Dean said. 

“It is,” Sirius said. 

“I think it sounds fantastic,” Sam said. 

“Don’t worry Sam, I enjoyed it very much when I was in school. You can also learn Runes,” Lupin continued. “And Muggle Studies.” 

“Not necessary,” Dad said. 

“Ah, right,” Lupin said, looking a little embarrassed. “And we’ll talk about Defense Against the Dark Arts. Certain things, like magical creatures, you can learn to deal with without a wand.” 

“Or a gun,” Dad added. “Which is part of why I wanted Moony for this. He’s been teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. It’s not quite the way we’ve done things, but he’ll be able to help a lot with this.” 

“I almost wish I could have brought Snape with me,” Lupin said with a heavy sigh. 

“That great git,” Dad said, suddenly letting an accent slip. It was jarring. Sam Jumped and so did Dean. 

“He’s one o the greatest Potions Masters alive,” Lupin said. “I just said I wish, not that I would have. I don’t trust him either.” 

“Yeah,” Dad said, his accent back to normal. “Dean will learn Charms and Transfiguration, which are basically the only two subjects where you have to have a wand. And Sam and watch and practice the hand motions, so he’ll be ahead of the game once he turns 17.” 

“Alright,” Dean said. He nodded slowly. “I’ll do it… I mean, you said we gotta know how to protect ourselves, and this will make the job easier.” 

“True,” Dad said, smiling. “Where we come from, the people who deal with this stuff are called Aurors. They’re the best of the best, and they’re paid very well.” 

“Well, nice to know we’re doing all that hard work for free,” Dean grumbled.

“They’re big on formal education,” Lupin said. “But maybe one day,” he shrugged. “For now, though, I propose that we all get some sleep. It will be a long day tomorrow.” 

“Yeah, okay,” Dean said, heading to bed. 

Sam still felt anxious. Dean had agreed, which Sam was kind of glad for, but they hadn’t talked about anything. Still, he didn’t think that Dean was going to talk about it now, not with Lupin and Dad in the room.


	4. Chapter 4

“So you’re telling me that the sons Sirius Black has aren’t really his sons,” Hermione asked. They were settled into a booth at the local diner that Dean had driven Ron to the previous night. They had devoured a pancake breakfast and were now just talking. Hermione had cast a spell to keep them from being overheard, mostly by replacing their words with hushed nonsense. It meant they could discuss this in public and they didn’t have to find some field to apparate to.

“Yes, and that Dean clearly didn’t know who his dad really was until last night. I don’t think he even knows the real story though,” Ron asked. 

“You didn’t let on that you know anything, did you?” Hermione asked, talking a sip of her juice. 

“Give me some credit, Hermione. I was sympathetic, and mostly we talked about you or his little brother, or about my family. And then I told him maybe bringing home a pie would make it easier.” Ron rolled his eyes a bit. 

“Yes, well,” she said. She seemed like she was about to say something. Then she paused and narrowed her eyes. 

“What?” Ron asked, turning to look over his shoulder. Then he spotted what she was staring at. “Is that Professor Lupin?” 

“It looks like it,” Hermione said. She pulled money out of her wallet and placed it on the table to cover the bill. Then she stood and Ron scrambled up to do the same. 

They walked over to the table. About the time they were half way there, Lupin threw his head back and laughed. Hermione and Ron exchanged glances. This was something neither of them had seen happen before. Whoever he was talking to was clearly someone Lupin must be close with. 

“Hello Professor,” Hermione said. 

Lupin looked over at them and smiled brightly. “Ron, Hermione! It’s so good to see you.” 

“It’s good to see you too professor,” Ron said, smiling as well. “We didn’t expect to see you so soon.” 

“Nor I,” Lupin admitted. “I assume you’re here because of Hermione’s project?” 

“Yes,” Hermione said, clearly pleased their old Professor remembered. 

“Hey, Moony, introduce us,” Lupin’s companion said in an amused hiss. Lupin’s face heated up. 

“Ah. Sorry. Hermione, Ron, this is John Winchester, a close friend of mine. John, this is Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, two of my students,” Lupin said. 

Ron felt himself feeling absolute horror as he turned and saw who was sitting across from their old professor. Sirius Black was seated there with a stack of waffles and a sharp, mischievous smile.

“Are you the Ron who told Dean to bring back a pie?” Black asked. 

“Uh, yeah,” Ron said. He blushed a bit, remembering what Dean had said the previous night. “Are you really shagging Professor Moody?” 

Ron couldn’t even believe he’d said that out loud. Both Hermione and Professor Lupin blushed and buried their face in their hands. Black, though, he threw his head back and laughed like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard in his life. 

“Ronald! You can’t just ask that,” Hermione hissed from behind her hands.

“Um, Dean said it,” Ron said, turning red as well. 

“Merlin’s beard. Why, why is Dean so observant?” Lupin groaned into his hands. 

“I trained him to be,” Black said, sound very proud. “And it’s not like it’s anything people with eyes can’t see, Moony.” 

“I’m going to kill him,” Lupin said, lowering his hands enough glare at Black. 

“My boy could snap you in half like a twig,” Black said with a big, shit eating grin. 

“I hate you so much,” Lupin said, glaring full force at Black. Black just grinned broader. 

“No you don’t,” Black said so fondly that Lupin’s face just got red all over again. He groaned and hid behind his hands again. 

At least Hermione had lowered her hands. But she was giving Ron dirty looks. 

“I’m sorry,” Ron said, though really it was more an embarrassed whisper. 

Black was still smiling. He waved his hand in an ‘it’s nothing’ motion. “It’s okay. I gave Dean a real scare last night. I should be thanking you. Lord knows our family doesn’t deal with stress that well. If it weren’t for you, I imagine Dean would have found a way to come home fall down drunk.” 

Ron winced. “He was okay when I left him.” 

“He was, because you helped him. I’m grateful. I really am,” Black said with an honestly grateful smile. He turned and looked over at Lupin suddenly. “Hey Moony, you think…?” he trailed off. 

Remus looked at the two of them. “I don’t know… how would you two feel like helping your old Professor out with a project?” 

“I don’t see why not,” Hermione said. 

“Oh, but you’re going to be going in a few days, right?” Lupin asked. 

“They said they might stick around for a while,” Black said. Ron felt a bit creeped out that he did remember them from before. 

“When did they say that?” Lupin asked with a frown. 

“A few days ago, before you got here,” Black said. 

“Yes, well… Where are you two staying? I’d like to discuss something with you later this evening,” Lupin asked. 

“The same Motel as the Winchesters,” Hermione supplied easily. 

“Excellent. I’ll come by around seven,” Lupin said. 

“Good. Well, it’s good seeing you professor. Nice meeting you Mr Winchester.” 

“John is fine,” Black said. 

“Nice to see you both,” Ron said. He started to steer Hermione away. 

He got her out of the building and back toward the motel before he spoke again. “Do you really think we should have told them where we lived?” 

“Do you really think Professor Lupin would hurt us?” Hermione asked. 

Ron made a face. “I don’t know. I mean, I feel like no. But you saw who he was sitting with… who he’s sleeping with.” 

“Ron, they asked for our help. Maybe it can get us closer and then we’ll have more to tell the Aurors,” Hermione said. 

Ron sighed. “I guess we always did have a detective streak.” 

“Of course,” Hermione said with a smirk. “And we can help bring a dangerous criminal to justice.” 

“Okay, you win,” Ron said. But he sighed again. He didn’t know what was going on, but there were too many factors and too many people involved. Because something about Dean’s story made Ron really nervous. The Potter family were legend. And Ron would hate to think that one of You Know Who’s right hand men had taken Harry Potter and run off. 

But then who was Dean’s brother? 

And why was Professor Lupin with Sirius Black at all? He’d been friends with the Potters, right? He was in their wedding photos anyway.

Things just weren’t adding up.

* * *

Dean wasn’t exactly excited about this plan. That morning before Sam had gone off to school Dad and Remus had walked Dean through the process of making a wand. 

“It won’t be as good as what you could get from Olivander’s, but what you need is a wand that resonates with you,” Remus had explained. 

He’d taken out a box filled with different kinds of woods and different materials. Dragon heart strings, unicorn hairs, phoenix feathers, and something called Veela hair. Dean had been told to touch each piece of material and pick the one that felt right. 

At first, Dean had scoffed because the idea that magic was based on feelings and not chicken bones seemed preposterous. But when he’d touched one of the Phoenix feathers he felt something in his chest just settle. It was his. 

“That tail feather came from a Phoenix named Fawkes,” Lupin said. “He’s headmaster Dumbledore’s bird. He knew I liked fiddling with wand making, and he gave me one as a gift when I left at the end of this past year.” 

“Headmaster at Hogwarts?” Sam had asked, totally fascinated by the process. He clearly, clearly wanted to pick as well. Dean wished he could, but they all knew that they couldn’t risk it. 

“Who named that place?” Dean grumbled. 

“Crazy people, Dean,” his dad had said. 

Then they picked a wood. Again, Dean had touch each until he found one he liked. He settled on a Pine, which his dad told him meant that Dean was very independent, and Remus said meant that it was very good for spell work. 

Then they sent Sam off to school. Apparently the wood and core had to soak in something for a few hours. Dad and Remus had gone off to breakfast by the time Dean came back from dropping off Sam, and Dean settled in with a slice of cold pizza and one of the many, many books that Remus had brought with him. 

The standard book of spells, grade one, had very basic spells, things Dean had a feeling he’d probably have had an easier time learning if he’d even eleven when he actually started learning. But he read anyway. The spells seemed pretty harmless in comparison to what he was used to witches doing. 

They seemed completely insane to think about Dean being a wizard, but apparently he was one. He just couldn’t wrap his mind around it. 

Remus returned alone without dad, but with a bag of pastries from the diner, which Dean could tell by smell alone. He looked up from his book and stared at the bag. Remus chuckled. “I thought you might like something besides cold pizza.” 

“Hey, don’t knock it til you try it,” Dean said. But he got up and took the bag from Remus. “Where’s Dad?” 

“He needed a run. He’ll be back when he’s tired of being a stray dog,” Remus said, going to look at the wand stuff. 

“Does he do that a lot?” Dean asked as he started digging in the bag. 

“Sometimes. I think he’s doing it now to be ready when I have to be taken away for the full moon,” Remus said. 

Hearing Remus say it so simply like that made Dean feel a little itchy. 

“Have you ever bit anyone before?” Dean asked. 

“Only myself,” Remus said in a tired voice. “You can see the way I’ve treated myself already.” 

“Yeah,” Dean said quietly, eyes running over the scars he could see on Remus's face and hands. “Does it hurt?” 

“Terribly,” Remus admitted. “And you never get used to it.” 

“How do you live with it?” Dean asked. 

Remus sighed. “It was difficult when I was a child. My parents did everything they could for me. My mother was a muggle, non-magic.” 

“I remember the word,” Dean groused. 

“Yes, well, she struggled to deal with it. But my father was a fairly well known scholar on the subject, so he had some concept. They loved me very much, but they kept me inside after that… I didn’t have friends until James and Sirus… and Peter… They meant everything to me. They loved me in a way no one else ever has… what they did for me was dangerous and stupid and very, very difficult. But they did it because they realized how I struggled on my own. And with them… I could keep my mind when it was all animals, when it was us.” 

The smiled on Remus’s face was very sad. 

“What was my real dad like?” Dean found himself asking. 

“A huge pain in my arse,” Lupin said, smiling fondly. “And I loved every minute it. You should have seen him and Sirius, best friends from day one. They pranked everyone, or tried to. We actually formed a secret little group of pranksters… anyway, James was amazing. He was a natural leader. He was an amazing Quidditch player… uh, it’s a wizard sport. Anyway, his job was to catch the snitch, a very fast little ball that flies, which is very, very small. The games played on brooms, and you have these nasty things called bludgers chasing after you to try and hit you. But James was amazing at it…. I’ve gone off on a path.” 

“It’s okay,” Dean said. “What was mom like?” 

“Lily was the smartest witch to come through Hogwarts in a generation. She was brilliant, strong willed and wonderful. She could always put your dad in his place and he was in love with her from day one, just about… I miss them.” That last admittance sounded so sad. 

“I wish I remembered them,” Dean said bitterly

“Sirius didn’t erase your memories. He just hid them away,” Lupin said. “I promise that we’ll get them back to you, but it will take some time to get the necessary supplies.” 

Dean nodded. He wasn't certain how he felt about all this. But that was enough wishing for things he couldn't have and dreaming about people he didn't know. “Okay. Is the wand done?” 

“Almost,” Remus said. “Would you like to help me form it?” 

“I can?” Dean asked. “I thought that was supposed to be advanced magic or some shit.” 

“It is,” Remus said. “Because it’s a wandless task. That being said, you have no concept of magic with a wand, so I believe you may be able to do wandless magic in this case, since you don’t yet know the proper way. Your magic wants to come out, Harry.” 

“I’d rather be Dean,” Dean said. He got up and walked over to the table. He watched Remus pour the liquid with the core into the bowl with the wand. “So, what are we doing?” 

“You and I are going to stick our hands in the bowl. Then you’re going to concentrate on pushing the core inside the wood. You reach into yourself and then push.” 

“That isn’t vague at all,” Dean muttered, but he stuck is hands into the completely nasty spell water. Remus did the same, chuckling a bit. 

He may have wanted to say something, but Remus didn’t speak. He just closed his eyes. Dean watched him for a moment. Then he looked down at the bowl. Nothing was happening. Dean sighed and closed his eyes too. 

He imagined the two things and the core sore of phasing through the wood and then he just sort of started mentally chanting ‘do it, do it, do it’. 

He had no problem, somehow, seeing his dad, or Remus, or even Sam has being wizards. They were special, and thinking of them that way just felt right. But with himself… no, that was hard to see. Dean was a hunter. He was normal. He didn’t see himself as special like that, as a savior or anything worth what these people seemed to think he was worth. 

‘I wish I was magic too,’ he thought. 

Something in him just opened up and flowed out. He didn’t even have to open his eyes to feel the wand pieces pushing together. But when he did he saw that they had formed together and Remus had taken his hands out of the liquid, so Dean did too. 

“Very good, Dean,” Remus said with a proud smile. “You just did half of a very, very difficult task with no training. I may have you try some wandless spells along the way, just to see if it is easier for you to learn before you fully learn the wand.” 

“So am I the guinea pig?” Dean asked. He let Remus clean them both up with magic, and then he went to wash his hands anyway. 

“No… well yes, a little. Most people don’t get training if they want to start learning later. There are cases, but not as many now as there used to be. So we are trying something a bit uncharted. But, what it means is that you’ll get a chance to learn things you may not have gotten to otherwise, and we’ll know better what to do with Sam once he turns 17.” 

And just like that, Dean was on board. “Okay, should we try something else now?” 

Remus looked thoughtful. “Alright. I don’t see how it can hurt,” he said. He went to get a candle from his bag. “But just something simple for now.” 

“Okay,” Dean said, furrowing his brow with determination.


End file.
